“You have his name, his responsibility, and that’s all you have. Do you have any friends? When was the last time you took the boat out on the lake and relaxed? When was the last time you took a vacation? You sit on your throne on top of Mount Johnson and use money to control everything and everyone. He groomed you well.”
Cyrus laughed softly, mildly amused by his brother’s sanctimonious pronouncements.
“While you’re complaining about the money, what about you, Xavier? Who are you? Why do you feel the need to hide who you are, with the dreadlocks and the bargain basement clothes? You’re trying so hard to be somebody else, to hide from your wealth while still collecting a nice check every month.”
“I hardly spend a dime of my allowance,” Xavier grated. “What I do spend helps others in my nonprofit work.”
“And the money finances your trips, doesn’t it? A few years ago, when you were stuck in a Senegalese prison, it was the money from Mount Johnson that got you freed.” Cyrus looked around at the smiling guests. “I don’t understand why you can’t work at the company our father worked so hard to build.”
“Not everyone is cut out for business, and there’s more to life than money.”
“Why can’t you do both? Save the world and work at the company?” Cyrus said. “Why are you so ashamed of who you are and where you came from? Do you know how many people would love to be you?”
“Of course I do. Do you know how many people suffer everyday because they don’t have enough to eat and because of corporations like ours, underpaying and raping resources from local communities? The rich getting richer and the poor poorer.”
“Save me the tired clichés,” Cyrus said with a wave of his hand. “Your statistics say one thing, mine say there’s a growing middle class, and it’s larger than ever before.”
“Anyone can doctor numbers to coincide with their arguments. I don’t trust your funny math.”
“And I should trust yours?”
“We’ll never see eye to eye on this,” Xavier pronounced. He looked ready to move on.
“Not as long as you continue to run from your birthright.”
“My birthright?” Xavier said bitterly, swinging back in his direction. “The only person Father thought was good enough to run the company was you, and he was ridiculously tough on all of us.”
“Tough but fair.”
“No, just tough. He groomed you to be the next him. It’s so embroiled in you, you don’t even have a separate identity. It started with the name. No one can tell anymore that you have your own personality because you are him, and because of that, you were his favorite, the crown prince of the Johnson empire.”
“So jealousy is the reason you’ve abandoned your responsibility to help run the company?” Cyrus demanded. He’d known for a while that Xavier held resentment toward him, but he’d never been certain of the cause.
“Did he ever ask you, ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother?’” Xavier snapped. He stopped, as if he’d revealed too much. Then he plowed on since he’d said plenty already. “I never measured up.”
Cyrus was bewildered by his brother’s remarks. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know. I’m good at what I do,” Xavier said. “I help people and do something meaningful with my life instead of sipping champagne around the pool all day.”
“If you think that’s how my day is spent, you’re wrong,” Cyrus said dryly.
“Everyone knows how hard you work, Cyrus,” Xavier said in a grudging tone.
Cyrus stared out at the guests, not really seeing them. All he saw was his father lying in the hospital bed, giving Cyrus his last instructions to take care of the family and keep the Johnson name clean. To continue building on the family’s success so future generations could benefit. They were tasks Cyrus took very seriously.
“You’re wrong about Father,” he said. “He wanted you to work for the company. He wanted you and me to be side by side, running everything. He trusted you.”
Xavier looked at Cyrus with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”